Mayday
by chezchuckles
Summary: for dtrekker - Happy Birthday. also, it's not what you think.


**Mayday**

* * *

for dtrekker Happy Birthday

* * *

_But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.  
You got me wrapped around your finger -  
Do you have to let it linger?_

_Linger - The Cranberries_

* * *

She's gonna kill him.

She can't keep looking at him like that.

He rubs at his face and settles down in his chair, elbows on his knees, and tries not to look at her. Hurts too much.

"Castle," she rasps.

Her voice tugs at him, pulls his eyes towards her. He can't help it. Can't keep away. Can't hold it back either.

"You lied to me."

Her face is so pale. The white sheets look starched and crisp by her head; her hair in a tangled mess. "Didn't want you there."

"Now you're in the hospital."

"Why I didn't want you there."

"I can't believe you lied to me after everything."

She closes her eyes. Subject over.

His shoulders drop. No matter what he says, how close they are, what her life looks like now, how far they've come. She won't change her mind on this. And he's not sure he'd want her to, not sure she'd be the same person.

"Sorry," she grunts from the bed.

He glances up; her hand is fumbling over the side, reaching for him. He stares at that beseeching hand for a moment, pain breaking him open, and then he grabs hold, their fingers lacing together.

She sighs out, a breath in the silence between them.

He stands up, the chair too awkward, his shoulder wincing, and comes to her side at the bed. She must sense him there, because she opens her eyes to watch him.

"Gonna ask me to leave?" he says. "Tell me you'll call but never do? Kick me out of your life for three months?"

A flicker across her face, no more. "I deserve that."

"You do." But here he is regardless.

"Not going to say that. Wouldn't do any good," she says. A small smile pulls at her lips, but her eyes are sliding shut. "You live with me. Can't kick you out."

He huffs and leans over the bed, bracing himself on the mattress. "Hey. You live with me. I don't live with you. Come on. Be honest."

Her lashes separate, eyes dark and wide. "I should've been honest. But you would have followed me."

"Of course I would've followed you," he says, squeezing her fingers to keep her awake, with him, just a moment longer. "And this might not have happened if I had, Kate."

"Might have been you instead," she sighs, lids drooping again.

Leaning over her, he wishes she didn't look so much like that spring years ago, wishes she wasn't back here - pale in a hospital bed.

"Kate," he whispers. Her eyes jerk open at his call, blinking rapidly to focus on him.

"Castle."

"Don't do that again."

"Can't make that promise."

"I need you."

"You don't-"

"The kid needs you."

She grins, that smile a wide slash across her pale face. "Yeah. Got me there. Where's-?"

"With my mother," he sighs, darts in to kiss that smile. Too limp against him, too pliant. "You should've brought back-up."

Her fingers tangle at his neck. "Didn't think I needed it."

"You should've-"

"Stop telling me how to do my job and let me sleep. I'm tired. You know it was just a weird accident. No one was supposed to be there."

He huffs at her. "Sorry, but it doesn't exactly instill a lot of confidence in me, seeing you stabbed in an alley, Beckett."

Her eyes flash open, pain at the bottom of their dark depths. "Didn't think of that, Rick."

Castle sighs and brushes his fingers over her forehead, smoothing back her hair. She's still got her fingers curled at his neck; her thumb brushes under his jaw. Apology and acceptance without a word.

"Don't let the kid in here," she says.

He shakes his head. "Don't want him to see mom like this."

She nods. "I'll be outta here soon."

"The kid'll jump all over you."

"You'll help."

He sighs. "Of course, I'll help." He kisses her again. "Don't do that to me, Kate. I don't think I can take it."

She shifts in the bed, fingers stroking down his neck. "No one was supposed to be there. Just checking an address."

"I told you I'd come with you."

"Didn't think I'd need you, Castle." She sighs at him, pushing on his chin with her fingers. "He came out of the room; I wasn't ready for him. He got in a superficial cut - but I got him. Please stop."

He sighs and lowers his forehead to hers, another kiss to her nose. "Okay. Okay. You scared me, and I'm still not over it."

"Then sit with me. While I sleep, 'kay?"

"Yeah. Okay," he murmurs, glancing at his phone. His mother has texted him that they're both doing fine. _Kid is clueless. Mom and Dad always work late._

He sits back down in the chair and scoots it closer to the bed, takes her hand with a gentle touch, tries not to jostle her. The knife wound - really, it is rather superficial - has left a line of black stitches across her collarbone, but it will heal. She'll be fine.

It's fine. She's gone on numerous calls like this before, just checking out a lead, and nothing has happened. It's not like it's her mom's case; it's not like she threw herself into danger. She just-

She's just everything now.

He closes his eyes, shakes his head at himself.

Her hand flexes in his; he glances over at her and she's frowning softly at him. "Don't look like that," she mutters.

He sighs, squeezes her fingers, grateful to have her, grateful that he went to the address to track her down even if it means that every time he closes his eyes, he sees her bleeding in that alley. Her hair drenched with her blood.

But she's still watching him; her face has settled into a kind of amused disapproval. "You look like you're in distress."

"Have mercy, Kate. I am in distress."

"I'm sorry you were the one to find me."

He grunts. "I'm not. I'm your partner. I'm the one-"

"I know. Only you," she interrupts, her fingers tighter in his. "Always."

"Yeah." He lets out a long sigh.

"You know I'm fine."

"Yeah."

She lifts an eyebrow and he nods, swallows past the choke of his heart in his throat.

It won't change. It only gets worse because now he has more to lose.

The risk of love.

But he wouldn't change it. He can get over his distress, every instance of pain, for what lies on the other side, for the way she looks at him, for the family they've made.

"Castle."

"I'm good," he says at last, and breathes out.

"I am too," she says, strength in her voice. "You know I love you."

He leans forward and feathers a kiss across her lips. "I know. I know, Kate."


End file.
